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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25200172">Heavenly Kingdoms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slang_fortunes/pseuds/slang_fortunes'>slang_fortunes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Aang/Katara and Sokka/Zuko, Eventual Friendship, F/M, Katara and Zuko are forced to serve in his court, M/M, Sokka tags along because he cares, The Avatar is a dictator/emperor, The Gaang all meet under very different circumstances</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:48:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25200172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slang_fortunes/pseuds/slang_fortunes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why aren't you kneeling?" The emperor asked from the throne. With his feet tucked under his legs and his eyes closed, he cast the image of a monk deep in meditation. Katara was afraid to look for too long, but she took a brief moment to follow the lines of his tattoo with her gaze, tracing the blue swathe from the crown of his head to the space above his eyebrows where it furrowed into an arrow. She was struck by how small he was and as she evened out her breathing she wondered how a boy could be the source of six centuries of cruelty.</p><p>She dropped to the ground in a forced bow.</p><p>  <b> AU in which the Avatar rules the world with an iron fist, and the rest of the Gaang have to serve in his court. </b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Katara</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The white sails came on a cold day.</p><p>They crashed through the horizon of the arctic sea, stark against the blue sky and its reflection in the water. Hiding behind the wall that shielded her village from the tides, Katara could see the vessels when they were still far from shore. They loomed in the distance, heavy like a premonition, she thought, and unbending against the winds that blew in the winter blizzards. </p><p>When the ships breached the snow, her father was there to greet them. Katara followed his movements with her eyes as he walked to the first gangplank and bowed to the soldiers that exited in single file. From her position, she could not make out the grimace on Hakoda’s face; she could not have known that this act of submission was far more painful than any other, nor that his genuflection was weighted down with a loss that she was yet to feel. Already sixteen, the young waterbender was able to identify the emperor’s ships by their grey and white flags, but she did not know that these vessels were there for her. </p><p>The emperor’s men- all dressed in armour that looked like it was made of smooth, pale stone- entered through the gate and marched towards the open space between the village houses. As they did, Hakoda moved swiftly through the crowd to stand by Katara’s side. “What’s happening?” She asked. </p><p>“They’ve come to collect the tribute,” Hakoda replied. He looked to the invaders’ swords instead of meeting her gaze. </p><p>“Oh, right. Well, what are we going to give them? We still don’t have enough.” Tribute was an annual occurrence: a payment, usually charged in a mixture of kind and cash, that the empire collected from each village. Ostensibly, it was for the ‘protection’ that the Avatar provided the nations- though, this was something that Katara never understood, because it felt like the Avatar was the entity from which they needed the most protecting. When she asked the village elders about this once, she was told that the world used to be a place of conflict, where the elements battled each other with a ruthless ferocity. The Avatar- a bender who could master all four- was bequeathed to the earth by the heavens to restore order and to reinstate a balance that had long been lost. <i>‘But people are stubborn,’</i> her Gran-Gran, the Southern Water Tribe’s matriarch, said, <i>‘And the only way that the Avatar could do this was by conquering us all.’</i> To Katara, at least, this explanation felt more like an old wives’ tale, or like a myth meant to soften a history of tyranny that would otherwise be too unpalatable to stomach. But as she grew up, this story- much like the empire itself- seemed to be a remote influence at the background of her life, so she gave it little thought.</p><p>Now, things felt different. Usually, the men of the Water Tribe took the tribute to the Avatar directly, making a perilous journey by boat to the edge of the Earth Kingdom where they would load the goods and coins into caravans that could carry the bounty to the empire’s neutral capital in Ba Sing Se. But this year, the weather had been unfavourable, and the fisherman failed to collect enough fish and oil from the skins of the tiger-seals to pay the dues. Though the men set out in the summer as they always had, their wooden ships were light and they expected to be levied with even heftier fines upon arrival; but by early autumn they returned to the South Pole unscathed and in good spirits. <i>‘The emperor has been generous,’</i> Katara heard them tell her father as they rolled the last barrels of fish from the cargo hold, <i>‘We were told to bring the food back to feed the tribe.’</i> But the Avatar was not known for charity, and this ‘gift’ now seemed to be a loan upon which he was ready to collect.</p><p>“They haven’t asked for fish or oil.” Hakoda’s lips were drawn into a tight line and he still found ways to avoid Katara’s eyes. </p><p>“Then what do they want? Those are the only things that we export.” Peering into the crowd, she could see nothing that the soldiers could take with them, and she knew that all of the money had already been given over. </p><p>“They want a waterbender.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Zuko</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“They want a waterbender.” </p><p>Zuko heard the tribe’s chief mutter to a girl with brown braids and blue eyes that sailors could drown in. Her response was silent, but the look on her face revealed her. His uncle had told him before he departed Ba Sing Se that there was only one known bender in the Southern Water Tribe- and clearly she was it. When Zuko locked eyes with her, the girl scowled with a rage that he recognised because he had once worn it himself. And because he remembered that ache and the desperation it wrought, he let out a warning flare from his palm. “Don’t try anything.” His words were measured, even. An imperial attendant had to keep his composure at all times. </p><p>The chief furrowed his brow. He looked torn. Zuko understood that he would be because the man was about to pay a high price for peace. To demand a person as tribute was not uncommon in the days of the previous Avatars, but it was rare now; and it seemed that the laymen in the hinterlands had forgotten how to part ways with grace. As he watched the girl stumble toward her home with two guards at her back to collect her belongings, Zuko silently hoped that she was the exception and that the Avatar was not planning an extended lesson to remind the nations of this practice. But the emperor was often inscrutable, even to him, so he could not say for sure. </p><p>If he was being honest, Zuko had no idea why he was here, or what Aang wanted with an untrained waterbender from the South Pole. Usually, the Avatar would speak with him somewhat freely- if only because they had grown up together, one king and one servant but both prisoners in a palace that sometimes felt more like a powder-keg- but this time, he revealed nothing. </p><p> </p><p>*****<br/>
<i> “You’ll see when she gets here,” </i> Aang had smiled serenely when Zuko asked him, eyes closed. With his legs crossed at the ankle and his hands at his sides, he appeared deep in meditation but the firebender knew that he was just plotting his next move. <i> “Oh, and make sure that she gets into the city unharmed." </i></p><p>Zuko stepped further onto the veranda that encircled the Avatar’s private quarters. Between him and the emperor, a pai sho table was set, though the placement of the tiles suggested that a game was already underway. On edge and off guard, Zuko hadn’t wanted to throw himself into a competition that relied on the same forces that he needed in this moment: strategy and chance. But when the emperor wiggled his fingers and entreated him to join, Zuko sat down wearily because he sensed that this was more of a command than an invitation. <i>‘With Aang, its often hard to tell the difference,’</i> he thought to himself. </p><p>As he examined the terrain of the board, he ventured further. <i>“The people of the Water Tribe are strong-willed and I’m sure that she’ll try to resist. I don’t think I’ll be able to get her onto the ship without subduing her.”</i> What he wanted Aang to realise was that this mission came bound up in cruelty: this waterbender would not want to leave behind the world that she knew for no reason other than to satisfy the will of a boy who sat on a throne thousands of miles away. And as someone who had experienced that same feeling of division from home and family nearly a decade before, Zuko didn’t want to be the one to take her. When the Avatar glanced up, the older of the two examined the young face in front of him for the mercy that sometimes knitted its brow when they were together, but he was met only with the blankness that Aang wore so well. </p><p>The message was evidently not received; or, if it was, it was being ignored. <i> “Mountains cannot be moved with fists, Zuko. But they can be gently nudged.” </i> Aang ended his turn. He allowed his opponent to assess the placement of the tiles with no time limit, sitting still like Zuko imagined that the monks had sat in the Southern Air Temple where the Avatar was born. But it did not take long to see that this was a game that couldn’t be won. Aang had prepared it in such a way that all of the most powerful pieces were already in play; all that Zuko could do was go through the motions of defeat. </p><p>He had known Aang long enough to know that this was a statement. The emperor was not in the mood for negotiation, and even the tentative amicability that they shared would not be sturdy ground upon which to fight his case. Because Zuko could tell that he was beaten, he played his final hand and laughed weakly.<i> “Did you get that one from Uncle?” </i> </p><p><i> “Actually, it’s a saying from the Southern Air Temple- but I’m sure Sifu Iroh would like it. Maybe you can tell him next time you see him.” </i> And just like that, it was over. The vacant brutality for which the Avatar was known dissipated, leaving behind the little bald monk that Zuko had spent most of his childhood playing with in the courtyards of the palace. Dark eyes brightening up, Aang leapt from his seat and grinned at Zuko cheerfully. <i> “I have a meeting with the Earth King now, so I have to go. You can come too- but you might want to bring a snack for Bosco.” </i> </p><p>*****</p><p>Shaking himself from the uncomfortable reverie, Zuko planted his feet more firmly into the snow. He was here. The mission was happening. Now, he just needed to get it over with. “We have to leave,” he called out to the commanding soldier of the battalion that accompanied him, “Get the girl.” </p><p>When she was pulled out of the home, she had a blue blanket tucked under her arm and an expression that gave nothing away. Like her chief, she was too proud to cry in front of the inevitable, which was a trait that Zuko could appreciate. In that moment he was so focussed on her- watching for any small movements, any attempts to bend and escape- that he almost didn’t notice the boy standing beside her. But Hakoda did, and he rushed forward.</p><p>“Sokka, go inside.” </p><p>“No. I’m not letting her go alone.” When he spoke, Zuko turned to take him in. He had the same eyes as the waterbender- cool like the ocean and just as wide- set within a handsome face. His jaw was solid and square. He had a warrior’s chin. He wasn’t particularly tall, but Zuko could tell that he was strong. His heart was beating in his chest and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid or infatuated.</p><p>“Sir, what should we do?” The soldiers were waiting for him to decide how to handle the situation. And a situation it was, because Zuko hadn’t prepared himself for any extra prisoners. But before he could even think about it, his mouth was moving.</p><p>“Bring him.” As the two members of the Water Tribe were loaded onto the ship, Zuko couldn’t decide if he had made a terrible mistake or not.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Katara</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the Southern Water Tribe’s only waterbender, Katara knew a few things- all of which she learned on her own.</p>
<p><i> First, that water was temperamental. </i>  It shifted form with a velocity unmatched by any of the other elements, transforming from a gas to a liquid to a solid with only moderate variations in temperature and external conditions. This motility also made it brutal, since the same water that her people drank in thirst could also serve as the gateway to their demise. Both in the heavy blankets of snow and ice that coated the South Pole like a dangerous duvet and in the waves that had sunk hundreds of tribe ships off of the coast, water proved itself time and again to be a cruel benefactor. As a waterbender, she often wondered if that made her cruel, as well; as if her power to control the element meant that she shared in its nature.</p>
<p><i> Second, that it served as the basis of life. </i> Despite its capacity for destruction, Katara also recognised its centrality to the needs and wants of the living. Unlike food, which fuelled bodies for motion, water made existence possible and to feel its absence was more than hunger. In other ways, too, it gave birth to opportunity: for generations, the residents of her snow-cap looked to the sea with hope for the future. They set off from the shore in pursuit of sustenance, adventure, and connection and they saw the ocean as a channel, rather than a border. As the last of her kind, the tribe beheld her with similar meaning, and more than once did Katara feel that the village elders perceived in her a link between their past and a history that was yet to be written. </p>
<p><i> And third, that because of these reasons, it was extremely valuable.</i> Even with her limited skill, left uncultivated for want of a teacher, she often found herself employed for the good of the tribe. She fetched drinking water with ease, she parted small streams of melting ice for the old and young to pass through safely, and she even learned to mend minor scrapes and bruises through water’s healing touch. With practice, she knew that she would be able to do even more, and she looked forward to the day when her friends and family could rely on her for protection.</p>
<p>But now, sitting on an imperial ship bound for the edge of the Earth Kingdom, it felt like that would never happen. Perched cross-legged the wooden floorboards, she pressed her nose to her knee and willed herself not to cry as she watched the South Pole fade from view below the horizon. None of it made any sense. What could the Avatar want with her? And how could he, as the purported harbinger of justice and balance and all of the things that her Gran-Gran had told her he was, take her away from those who needed her most? And how could the people she loved let her go?</p>
<p>The final question stung more deeply than the others. Katara had always believed that the Avatar was a monster: he took, and he took, and he took from the world without rhyme, reason, or retribution. But her grandmother, her father- they were different. How could they watch her be carried off without any resistance?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****<br/>
When the boy with the scar locked eyes with her, she knew that she couldn’t hide. Though he was dressed in white, he cut a sharp shape against the snow- all angles and broad shoulders, straight lines and violent creases. She could tell that he was Fire Nation by his eyes, which smouldered amber beneath black brows. He let out a small flame from his palm. And when he said <i>“don’t try anything,”</i> he spoke with no emotion at all. </p>
<p>Two soldier approached her from either side. They both put a hand on her shoulder and steered her towards the houses. The snow beneath her feet provided little traction, so they moved her with ease despite her attempts to dig her heels into the permafrost. She looked back, expecting to see Hakoda running towards her, ready to fight off these men, but he was standing still. He looked…. Ashamed? Afraid? She swivelled her head back around as she was thrust through the open doorway of her home. </p>
<p>Gran-Gran was inside. Katara felt awash with relief upon seeing her, but it quickly faded as she noticed that her grandmother had begun to lay out supplies on the bed- the kinds of things that were often taken on long journeys. Unlike her father, Gran-Gran met her eyes as she folded a tiger-seal skin blanket into a round package. <i>“The sea that lies between the South Pole and the Earth Kingdom is deceptive. It is warm during the day, but cold at night. You’ll need an extra layer to sleep.” </i></p>
<p>Eyes watering, Katara didn’t know what to say. Finally, after seven breaths that felt like seven lifetimes, she whispered, <i>“I don’t want to go.”</i>   </p>
<p>Gran-Gran enveloped her in a tight hug. Despite her anger, Katara leaned into it. This might be the last time she felt her grandmother’s warm presence, she realised, and she didn’t want to waste it.<i>“Sometimes, we are called to undertake hardships that we don’t anticipate, but they are crucial stepping stones towards our destiny.”</i></p>
<p><i>“This isn’t my destiny. <b>The Avatar-</b>”</i> Katara said his name with a hatred that she didn’t know she was capable of, <i>“isn’t my destiny.”</i></p>
<p>
  <i>“You don’t know your destiny, child. No one does.”<i> She looked like she was going to say more, but the soldiers outside began to shout. She pressed all that she had packed into her granddaughter’s hands quickly as one came in to drag the waterbender out. As she felt herself being pulled away, Katara rearranged her lips into a tight line. She wasn’t going to give these men the satisfaction of seeing her mourn.<br/>
***** 
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<p>
And it was mourning, because it seemed like a death to be parted from the place that she had known for her entire life. But at least she still had Sokka. Her brother, who had always been equal parts brave and stupid, in her estimations, had forced his way into the hands of the emperor’s men to ensure that Katara didn’t have to do this alone. And she had never been more grateful, though she worried about how the tribe would get on without them both.
</p>
<p>
Just as she was thinking about him, he appeared at the top of the stairs that led to the galley below deck. “Hey! Are you hungry? Fire-boy says that we can have whatever we want from the kitchen!” He laid out his finds- a selection of cookies and small cakes of varieties that Katara had never seen before- and smiled. “Say what you want about the Avatar, but he sure knows how to feed his prisoners.” 
</p>
<p>
 Katara shot him a glare. “Too soon?” He grinned sheepishly.
</p>
<p>
 “Yeah.”
</p>
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